Confessions of a Volunteer

Name: Amita Kalra
Nationality: India
Email: amitakalra88@gmail.com
Job Title: Business Operations Associate at ZS Associates
Job Description: I have completed engineering in Biotechnology, and work with a sales and marketing consulting firm - mainly on data analysis and operations projects.  
Introduction: I volunteer at the Ummeed Aman Ghar over the weekends. A few friends and I are mainly involved in  providing teaching support/ organizing workshops for the children. We spending time here and are basically open to helping out with anything here at Ummeed!



The Confessions of a Volunteer


My whining heart tingled,
You're not that warm or nice
What are you going to do there-
Is that ego in disguise?


I groped along in darkness,
Trying hard to find that light -
And no it didn't just come along
We had no heroes, no fight.


I wept alone in silence,
Could stories really end that way?
There had to be that happy end,
I'll wait, I thought, I'll stay.


I watched and watched,
and watched and watched, it couldn't really be like that -
If I could watch just a wee bit more,
It would come, and I knew that.


Guess what, it didnt - And I'm still there
Though my flimsy heart now sings:
I've understood, I knew I would -
Its hope that gives us wings.


Dedicated to: The children of Ummeed Aman Ghar and the Volunteer DilSe Campaign



I've had my own set of crazy inhibitions with social work. An Ayn Rand fan and "wannabe corporate" (whatever that is!), I couldn't relate to the concept of being selfess. I still can't, not totally, but my experiences at Ummeed have atleast given me different lines of thought.

I have learnt how happiness, and wealth, to a very large extent, are mutually exclusive. Yes, this is cliched -but I've seen proof!

I've also learnt that life is undeniably unfair, but then, people are incredibly good-natured as well. It's like nature's balance.

I'm still grappling with issues of selfishness, but the happiness that I felt when Babu recognized me on Saturday (I thought all of them must've forgotten me - I was coming back after 3 months) totally made my day and actually compelled me to write this post.

I'm honoured, more aware of myself and maybe even a little more sensitive than before.

Thank you Ummeed.

Kilkari - A learning experience

By Pranjal Dhanda

So, basically it started with Harry, pushing me to write a post for Dil Se blog. And I made a list of the things I wanted to write about and not to write about. I’ll try my best to convey my feelings to anyone kind enough to read this post.

It began on 5th May,2011. Pushpa escorted me into Kilkari, where I saw bunch of girls, combing each other’s hair. Teachers discussing their curriculum. After a quick talk with Anubhav, I laid out my plan to teach English and Maths, which did not work out for long, considering I’m a bad teacher. But I did not give up - I still teach General Knowledge and Science at another NGO.

My first teaching day was just about the girls, to know girls, about their aspirations and dreams. I’ll always remember how Rekha wanted to become an Air Hostess. What is absolutely remarkable is their desire to learn, grow up and change their conditions. The dreams might seem unacheivable to us, but at least it’s a dream. Life’s nothing if you don’t have any dreams. I came close to my one of my favourite students, Razia who didn't even know how to write her full name. She would just write RAZIA ZUB, because this is what’s been written on her locker. My best buddy there has been Deepak. Why won’t he be? He’s my little stuttering rockstar. He used to ask for my phone “ Didi, et fotto lele do na” 

We came there to teach, what we got back was Life. At least I did. Everybody around me knows that I’m happiest when I’m around my little kids. They just make my day. When these children can fall and then stand up, start walking again. Why can’t we? Most of you are familiar with the lives they used to lead, so I won’t ponder over those points. 

The staff at Kilkari is so helpful and open to suggestions, discussion. Especially Farzana ji and Kranti Ji. These two women truly deserve lots of appreciation for what they do. Every day. It is very difficult to teach the children who have gone through the full force of life’ brutality at such a young age. 

There are most things to what I got back from Aman Biradari, besides happiness. I got three great friends. Sarah, Christine and Ramzan, who are just absolute fun to work with. 

Ramzan being the most special one because he used to be a kid at Ummeed, who grew up, studied and now is working with Aman Biradari and getting a SALARY! 

But the most important thing I take away from this ngo is my true calling. For a student who just completed Engineering and was in the classic dilemma of “what to do with my life.” How to use it for good. Why am I here? Aman Biradari surely put the first block to the riddle and yeah, I worked my way from there. 

It is wonderful to finally find out what are you meant to do in life. I truly thank Aman biradari for being the light at the end of the tunnel. 

I will miss those days when children would come running to me when I entered through the iron gates of Kilkari and would say Bye Didi, Bye Didi, till they no longer could see me. 

The kids are adorable and so enthusiastic for their futures and everything Aman Biradari’s doing for them. Yes, they do take things for granted like every kid their age. But they come back appreciating things soon. Littlest things like Reading stories brings the smile on their faces and once you start reading, you’ll never guess, when about 20 children came and sat through your whole story sessions. 

As I said before, you think you are going there to teach. But you end up learning more than you could ever have expected. 

Five Months at Ummeed

Not smiling is honestly impossible

Name: Harry Robertson

Nationality: United Kingdom

Email: Harry.robertson4@gmail.com

Job Title: Long-Term teaching volunteer and Online campaign promoter

Job Description: Teaching English and Mathematics to children at Ummeed Aman Ghar, promoting Dil Se campaign through various online methods (blog, facebook page etc)

Introduction: I've come from the UK for a period of six months to work with the children at Ummeed Aman Ghar. I've been here nearly three months now, and have had what can only be described as an incredible experience.I've always enjoyed teaching, and while I loved teaching children in the UK, I have found my work at Dil Se infinitely more rewarding and enjoyable.

In all honesty, my arrival in India was not exactly a calming experience. Having stepped onto the plane through six inches of snow and temperatures hovering around zero, I stepped off five hours later into what would constitute a warm English summer day. A taxi ride, an auto drive and a short walk, and all of a sudden I was standing in the place where I was intending to live for the next five months.  

This was three months ago now, and the impression I formed within the first week has pretty much held true: enjoyable although slightly chaotic. I’m from the UK and have just finished school – I’m on a gap year before I go to York University this September. I’m naturally very disorganized, I don’t speak a word of Hindi and if the temperature outside rises above 30 C then I become a useless pile of sweaty laziness. The reaction most people have to this information is one I have, by now, become used to. There’s a few seconds of processing time, a slightly bewildered look, a widening of the eyes, and a vague attempt to phrase the question “Are you completely insane?” in a socially acceptable manner. 

Insane or not, I have survived so far. Not speaking Hindi hasn’t been much of a problem – most things can be translated with a bit of patience and some over-the-top acting – and learning a little has proved very useful. And the temperature? Well, I’ve just had to live with that. 

Living at Ummeed, though, has been fantastic. Most people would imagine that the huge smiles shared by most boys when saying “Hello” to me would wear off after a few weeks – A new guy living there can only remain a novelty for a short while, after all. Or so I thought, at least. It’s been three months and still, walk into any room and I can expect to hear “Harry bhaiya!” and see a smile so wide it’s a miracle it fits on whichever face happens to be wearing it at the moment. 

I’ve spent the time working as a teacher of English and Mathematics, which has been far easier and more enjoyable than I’d expected, given my (albeit limited) previous experience of teaching in the UK, for one simple reason: the boys at Ummeed want to be taught. UK children will drag themselves to school, look grumpy and begrudgingly listen for half an hour before traipsing out of the class. On the other hand, the Ummeed boys will ask me how long it is until the next lesson, walk in smiling and, still smiling, thank me as they leave. I’ve had boys regularly upset because I can’t manage extra lessons for them, or, upon agreeing to do an hour of extra lessons for a boy, have found myself persuaded to sit around for three or four hours of extra teaching.

A lot of people seem to be under the impression that the most tragic thing that can happen to a child is for him or her to be forced into education when they simply want to play outside. I would disagree. Having seen the children at Ummeed, it is now only too clear that it a far worse crime to stop a child from learning when he or she truly wants to.